The Heart of a Guardian (Elsword)

Chapter 19: It's Fine if it's You

The metal door flew open as Helputt rushed into his son's room.

"How is he?" the king called in a panic, "Why wasn't I told of this earlier?" He pushed aside one of the doctors and knelt at his son's bedside.

The advisor, a lanky male with a large protruding nose cleared his throat. "Your majesty, with all due respect, the Velder ambassadors have been growing impatient these past few days and-"

"Why wasn't I told of this earlier?!" Helputt roared at the man, who quickly fell silent before his king.

Helputt turned to his son, a young boy with blonde locks carved into a bowl cut. His normally pale face was a sickly shade of blue and he laid in his bed gasping for air. A tube was wired to his chest, feeding his veins a clear fluid that seemed to do little in helping the child.

"How long has he been like this?"

"Two days, your majesty," one of the doctors replied.

"Two d-" Helputt looked as if it took everything he had to keep his composure. Deep blue eyes stared daggers at his advisor, "And you had me sit at some negotiation table for half a day while my son suffered?"

"Your majesty... I was merely following your guidelines to-"

"Out!" Helputt's voice shook the glass panes in the room. "Get out! Before I throw you off the balcony!"

Like a mouse before a lion the advisor quickly scurried out of the room, leaving the king to discuss the condition with the doctors. He was silent for some time as his big hands gently cradled the boy's head.

"It's not looking good... is it?"

Both of the doctors looked at each other uneasily. The short plump one spoke. "No, my king. It appears the prince has fallen ill to the same strain as our late Queen Raina."

"Papa...?" the young prince stirred. His voice was unsettlingly weak, "You're... home early..."

Helputt tacked on his brightest smile for him. "I missed you so much that I had to come back. How are you feeling, big guy?"

The boy looked as if he was struggling to gather the air to speak.

"Sleepy..." was his answer. "Am I... Sick again?"

"Just a little, son. You'll get better. You will, won't you? For me?"

Again, young Chung tried to gather the air to speak, but only managed a nod.

"You can't be a paladin like, that, you know! I asked you a question. I expect an answer. Why, all the other guardians answer me with a loud 'Ay, sir!' And I didn't hear anything from my son."

The prince drew in several heaving breaths. Maybe he was pushing the boy too hard.

"I'm joking, Chung... you just get your rest-"

"Ay, sir!" the boy wheezed.

A sad smile crossed his father's lips as he squeezed the boy's tiny hand tightly in his.

"That's the strong kid that I know and love. You'll pull through. Now you just get some rest. Your big man has a few errands to run."

Helputt leaned forward, kissing the boy on his forehead. He released the boy's hand and the child lifted his head weakly to look at the small trinket the king had placed in his hand. It was a wooden carving of a Hamel Paladin intricately colored in white and blue paints.

"I'll find a cure," the king muttered decisively, turning to leave the room, "Even if I have to search the ends of the world for it."

"Your majesty?" the plump doctor called, following him.